Ouch.

“Yeah, you worked hard in school to qualify for the positions you have in your company, but let’s be real, nepotism was 75% of that perceived hard work. I worked twice as hard as you, at least. I’ve sweated more. I’ve taken bigger falls and more flack. For the love of God…” she shakes her head, clicking her tongue, “I’ve gotten on my knees in front of you, let you spank me, come in my ass, and call me a fucking slut. Normally I would castrate a man for doing that, but for some reason you have also charmed me into letting you get away with whatever you want.”

I remain silent. Don’t feel like being castrated, after all.

“So here’s the deal, Mathers. I’ll give you money. I’ll give you everything you need and then some. Except you have to do something for me. Do you know what?”

I know.

I dare not say it.

Her hand touches my chest. My breath catches inside my ribs, bruising them from within. This touch is Kathryn, and yet it’s not the touch I know from her at all. She’s squeezing me, clutching my shirt, getting ready to pop my buttons open.

Tear me apart.

Ruin me.

I swallow, hard.

“If you want the money so badly…” Her mouth twists into a smile that makes my cock annoyingly hard. Fuck me. “Earn it and submit to me.”

Haha.

Hahahahaha. She said words.

My throat is dry. My cock is harder than it has any right to be. My heart is pounding in my chest. Did I mention that I’m hard?

“What?” I ask, drolly. “Right now?”

“Ha. No.” Kathryn releases me. “That wouldn’t be fair. You gave me time to mentally prepare for your brand of domination. Now I give you time to prepare for mine. I want your decision by Thursday. If you say yes, I’ll give you half before and then half after. No getting out of it, unless you want to go find seven a half million dollars elsewhere.”

“I can give you my answer.”

She glances at my crotch.

“No.”

I meet surprise. “No?”

“No.” I can throw that smile right back at her. “I don’t do that.”

It’s a duel of the willful smiles. “Maybe money isn’t enough to sway you, but…” she unbuttons her jacket, showing me her cleavage. Almost compelling. “Do you love me, Ian?”

I want to touch her, but I don’t. Instead, I curl my fingers into the jacket I’m holding, hoping it’s enough to hold me back. “Of course, my love. I love you. And I don’t say that lightly.”

“Do you want to be with me?” Her voice is so soft that I almost don’t hear the plea within it. “Do you want me?”

“That should go without saying.”

“Then do this at least once. I want to dominate you, Ian. I want to see you in front of my feet, worshiping the ground I walk on. I want to take you the edge and back again. I want you to feel the way you make me feel.”

The way I make her feel…

“Once. If you really don’t like it afterward, then I’ll never ask it of you again.”

“And I’ll get the money for my business.”

“Funny how that all works out.”

Funny, indeed.

“Like I told you, you’ve got until Thursday.” Her arms wrap around my shoulders, and I smell her breath on my lips. When she kisses me, it’s like a one-two punch to my heart and my hard-on. “After that,” no, come back, kiss me again, “I will assume you’re not interested. In the money.” Katie pulls away, sullen. “Or me.”

I leave in a daze, my senses full of Kathryn Alison. Her scent in my nose, her voice in my ear, her touch on my lips and the taste of her tongue on mine. Her image remains in my brain all the way down in the elevator.

“I will assume you’re not interested in the money… or me.”

I text her.

“You know I’m interested in both.”

It’s not my final answer.

 

 

 

Chapter 22

 

KATHRYN

 

I’ve been feeling such a rush for the past few days. From the moment I told Ian my terms, I’ve felt myself coming back to the person I always knew I was.

No, not like that, silly. What I mean is that I’m back at top form. The Kathryn I always present myself as.

Ian likes to think he was practicing a perfect poker face, but I felt him waver. I saw him consider what I told him. And even though I’ve spent the past few weeks convinced that I no longer wanted to dominate him, I now know how wrong I was.

That man needs a Mistress to keep him in line.

Ian was the first person to see the potential to submit within me. He wasn’t wrong. What he didn’t see, however, was the potential inside himself as well.

To be fair, I didn’t see it at first either. When it comes to men, they tend to know exactly what they want, whether that’s dominating, submitting, neither, or both. A man who has been in the scene for as long as Ian is fairly locked into his role. Doms especially don’t like to ever give up power. They’re souped up alpha men who want the world to contour to their whims and needs. I can’t blame them. I often want that power as well.

Can’t you see it? Ian Mathers, treating me like the goddess I deserve to be. From head to toe, I will be adored,

I will feel truly loved.

Oh, I don’t doubt that the man loves me, but he’s asked so much of me already that I can’t imagine giving more of who I am and taking nothing back in return. The man wants me to be a switch? Fine. He’d better be willing to do the same for me.

I tell Eva as much over lunch at her place.

She whistles, shaking her head over an empty plate of spaghetti and salad. “He’s never going to do it,” she says with hesitation. “The man has no real reason to question his own identity like you have.”

I give her a look.

“Don’t do that. You may have told him that the only way to keep you was to try it, but he’s still a man at the end of the day. This isn’t some lesbian ranting. This is cold, hard reality. You know it as much as I do… he’ll cry about it for a few weeks until he finds a new, more inclined sub to do what he wants. She’ll probably be blond, if it makes you feel any better.”

Hardly.

“You don’t know him like I do.” Pasta swirls on my plate as I push it into the design of a smiley face. Meatballs are eyes. Some parsley creates a cute nose. “He’s head over heels in love with me. Plus, his family really needs that money. He’ll definitely consider it.” There. A perfect Italian smiley face, now with extra oregano for seasoning. “Whether or not he bites… well, I’ll find out by tomorrow.”

Eva studies me, shaking her head slowly. “Please don’t set yourself up for heartbreak. I don’t understand what you see in this guy, and I doubt I ever will, but I care about you. You deserve happiness. Please be careful.”

That is perhaps one of the sincerest things Eva has ever said to me. Usually she layers her words in jokes and crude threats, but this is the genuine concern of a friend and confidant. Not that I never trusted her in this capacity before – we wouldn’t be best friends otherwise.

But hearing her like this makes me reconsider what I’ve done.

No, I’m not taking back my ultimatum. I can’t show that kind of weakness in front of Ian. I don’t want him thinking that he can wait for me to get over my Domme snits and then back to business as usual. That would not be sustainable in a relationship with me.

And it shouldn’t have to be.

However, let us face the facts. I love Ian. Ian loves me. We’re two stupid assholes in love and yet fundamentally incompatible. Something has to be done about that.

This is me attempting to take control of my life and heart. It’s the least I could do for myself.

Halfway through helping Eva with the dishes – because this is a woman who is too lazy to hire a housekeeper for more than one day a week, and if I leave the dishes here, they will pile up with the rest of them until next Monday – my phone buzzes with a text message. I think nothing of it as I walk over and pick it up, staring at Ian’s name with a black and white picture of a rose in the background.